The Lenten Rose Poem by Martin Ward

Each year, at this time,
I see beneath the washing line,
a beautiful flower appear.
No matter if the shears
cut it back or if my boots
compact the ground
around its roots.

A Lenten Rose
that rises from the ground;
head exposed
above a gang
of hooded snow drops.

Close cousin of
The Christmas Rose;
needless to say,
they share much DNA:
their flower-like sepals
appear as five petals.

In broad swathes,
the genus Helleborus
sings beneath bare branches,
like a warming winter chorus.

Just like another Lenten Rose,
arising from a darker place
and marking perennial spring:
banishing darkness without trace.

Tolerant of my neglect;
like a faithful friend,
I somehow suspect
(in my imaginings)
this companion in human form
and possessing
a kind demeanour
that would forgive me,
despite my misdemeanours.

Risen again to greet me;
beckoning the spring.
The Lenten Rose has returned,
which makes my heart sing.